Inferno Anthology (122 page)

Cole steps over and slaps my shoulder. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Then why do I feel like shit?” I wipe my eyes with the back of my arm. “We had already broke it off about six different times. We were just kids. We were always fighting. I honestly thought we were about to get back together when she said she was coming to see me. Only, she never made it.”

“Did Aubree know her?” Baya looks from me to Cole for answers.

“She was her ‘big sister,’ some program they ran through school. Aubree was always getting in our business. Why? What did she say?”

Baya’s eyes widen as she fixes her gaze on some unknown horizon. “She said, I took care of that little bitch just like I’m about to take care of you—then she gave me a push.”

The world freezes. The air in the room stops up, strong as death. Steph and Aubree used to go to the cliff to hang out. Steph said it was peaceful, that it helped center her.

“Shit.” It bellows from my lungs so loud the walls shake with the echo.

It all happens in a blur—the cops coming in—Baya’s mother storming the room once her plane touched down. Baya gives a firm account of what happened to her at the bridge last night, and the cops agree to call Aubree into questioning again.

They’re reopening Stephanie’s case.

Reopening the wound.

Hopefully, this time, we’ll get some real closure out of it.

Baya

The sky above the Hollow Brook cemetery is washed a creamy butter yellow. Bryson leads us over the polished granite stones as we tread carefully across people long since deceased in our warm wool coats, our winter boots.

It’s been two full weeks since the incident, and I’ve got all my strength back. Aubree is being held on suspicion of manslaughter. Her parent’s have already bailed her out, and rumor has it her father hired the best defense attorney that money can buy.

“Sorry”—Bryson apologizes as we skip over endless grave markers—“it’s been years. At first I tried to come all the time, but her mom asked me not to. She wanted me to remember the happy times, and all this place ever did was depress the hell out of me.”

I give his hand a firm squeeze because sometimes there are no words.

“Right here.” Bryson nods into a large black slab of granite that reads
Stephanie Nicole Jones, Loving daughter and sister. Gone too soon.

I hand him the bouquet of flowers we picked up on the way over—a fall arrangement with miniature pumpkins and fat orange leaves woven throughout a dozen yellow roses. Bryson said that yellow was a symbol of friendship—that they were never too serious, just best friends who tried to cross the line.

He lays the flowers over the stone before pulling a piece of paper from his pocket.

“I never thought you wrote this,” he whispers it to the soil as if she could hear.

“Can I ask what it is?” I kneel down next to him as the iced breeze licks my ankles.

“A copy of her supposed suicide note. Both her Mom and brother tried to tell me it wasn’t her handwriting, but I believed every damn word.”

“Aubree did it.” The handwriting analyst hired by the state already confirmed this. “Why bring a copy down here? I don’t get it.”

Bryson pulls out a lighter. “So I can do this.” He sets the tip on fire, and it dissolves within seconds under the supervision of the flames. “Rest in peace, Steph. I knew in my heart you would never do it—never say those things. I’m sorry, girl. You were a good friend. You’ll always have a piece of me. I hope you don’t mind I brought along someone special today. Baya stole my heart.” He glances up at me with his eyes glittering with moisture. “I’m in forever if she’ll have me that long.”

I lean in with hot tears rolling down my cheeks. “I’ll love you for all eternity, Bryson Edwards. Nothing will ever change that.”

Bryson smiles through his sadness just like he did that first day we met, but this time his smile expands, and I can see the downright joy in his eyes. He pulls me up, and we walk back to the truck. He wraps his arms around me and kisses the side of my cheek. I pause to soak in the beauty and the heartache of this afternoon.

“I’m proud of you,” I whisper. “You’re finally free of all that pain. You’re a good person—you deserve to be happy.”

“I love you, Baya.” I can feel his heart pound over my chest. He pulls back and looks at me with those smiling, silver eyes. “Now and forever.”

He crashes his lips against mine, and we indulge in a sweet kiss that seals our past, our present, and our future.

We’re about to carve a new path in life—one that is built for two.

A week drifts by, and I make my way across campus to my last class of the day. It’s already starting to get dark out, and it’s hardly three-thirty. A boil of storm clouds sift overhead, and if it gets any colder, Bryson said it might snow. My entire person tingles just thinking about him—about what a fun time we’re going to have this weekend. He invited Cole and me to spend Thanksgiving with his family.

“Baya!”

I spin around to find Laney and Roxy waving to me from outside the Hallowed Grounds café. It’s freezing out, but they’ve installed outdoor heaters that look as if they could melt all of Prescott Hall if they wanted. I head in that direction and grab a seat.

Roxy has her hair splayed out over her trench coat, and she looks like a porcelain doll, she’s literally that perfect. Laney pushes a cup of coffee at me, and I take a quick sip to heat my frozen bones.

“We’re celebrating!” She stretches to the sky with a victorious gleam in her eye.

“You got the part? You’re Whitney Briggs’ new Fantine!” I catch a breath as if I were about to star in Les Mis myself.

“Better. You’re looking at the new Madame Thenardier.” She touches her fingers to her chest and mock bows.

“Yeah”—Roxy pushes into her playfully—“the feisty keeper of the inn. You’ll really have to dig deep to channel your inner sarcastic bitch.”

“You think you’re funny, don’t you?” Laney cuts her a look before reverting her attention back to me. “Speaking of news—we’ve got some for
you
.” Laney tucks a sly smile in her cheek.

“About Aubree?” I’m still waiting to hear anything at all about her conviction. Personally, she still scares the hell out of me.

“Nope.” Laney spins her cup with a devious look in her eye. “Actually it has to do with Jeanie Waters.”

I suck in a breath. “God, did Aubree try to off her, too?” I can just imagine Thing One and Thing two quivering with fear.

“No.” Laney ticks her head back, and her dark glossy waves bounce around her face. “My roommate, Amanda Ester, agreed to room with her. And, now, I have a free bed. It’s yours if you want it.”

“Oh.” I pull a bleak smile. “Trust me, one week with Jeanie, and your roommate will be back.”

“Not true.” She holds up a finger. “I have enough dirt on Mandy to send her packing to the Alps if I wanted.”

“So it’s really mine?”

“It’s really yours.”

“Wow, thank you!” I lunge over and give her a big rocking hug.

“That’s great for you guys.” Roxy sets her lips in a pout. “I wish I could bunk with you. My roommate snores like she’s blowing bubbles under water all night. I swear I can’t get a wink in. Anyway, it doesn’t matter. What I really need is a place with a bona fide oven. There’s a big baking contest coming up—with a ten thousand dollar award on the line.”

“You wouldn’t think she needed the cash.” Laney rolls her eyes into me. “Her father owns half the country.”

Roxy nods. “My dad is a firm believer in me making my own way in the world. He’s paying for school, then I’m on my own.”

“She can’t even squeeze an oven out of his tight ass.” Laney shakes her head.

Roxy sighs into this sad reality. “Anyway, there’s an apprenticeship awarded to the winner at the Sticky Quickie bakery. And, I know for a fact, the owner is a master baker. This could be big for me. Especially since I plan on opening my own shop one day. I know I can ace this, I just need somewhere to bake a damn cupcake.”

“How about the caf?” Laney tightens her coat around her as the wind picks up.

“They gave me a big fat no.”

“Sorry to hear that,” I say. Poor Roxy. It’s the last thing she needed after nursing a broken heart all semester. “How are things going, you know…” I bite down over my lip half-afraid to finish the thought.

“With my love life? I’ve been eating a lot of forbidden sweets—translation I’m on the cupcake diet, and it sucks because I can’t even make the damn things myself.”

“Cupcake therapy can only get you so far.” Laney pushes into her shoulder so hard she just about knocks her off the chair. “You got to get back out there.”

“No way. I’m swearing off boys for a good long while. They’re pigs—every last one of them.” She thumps her cup against the table as if to annunciate her point. “Well, maybe not Bryson. You got sort of lucky with that one.”

Definitely not Bryson. “Sometimes you just have to take a risk.” Sort of the way my boobs did that first day in Founder’s Square. I blush at the thought. “Hey, there’s a party at the Black Bear tonight. Rumor has it all the hottest boys in the tri-campus area will be there.”

“So soon after I’ve sworn off penis slingers?” Roxy mocks my attempt to get her mind off a boy by way of more boys.

Laney leans in as if to coax her. “Plus, Baya and me.” She blinks a smile.

“I’m in.” She raises her coffee. “To hot boys, who I
still
want no part of.”

“To hot boys,” Laney and I say in unison.

Only, Laney doesn’t seem that convinced either.

It looks as if I’m the only one lucky in love around here. I have Bryson Edwards—and that really does make me the lucky one.

Bryson

Bodies bump and grind at the Black Bear Saloon as an endless stream of people filter in, but it’s Baya I’m waiting for. I’ve had great news to share with her all day, and I wanted to do it in person.

“Dude,” Holt moans. “How many times do I have to tell you, we don’t need to run happy hour all night on weekdays.”

“Just Wednesdays,” I correct. “Besides, it’s hump day. It’s a perfect fit.”

“Oh really? Because this is what you get.” He shakes his head into the boisterous crowd.

“Can’t you look on the bright side? Pretend each one of these people has a dollar sign on their face. That ought to take the edge off the misery.”

“They suddenly look better.”

“Thought so.”

“Damn, they’re attractive,” he smears it with sarcasm. “You know we’re about to break fire code.”

“Relax, we’re not there yet.”

Cole struts up and knuckle bumps the two of us. We haven’t spoken since the incident. Not that I hadn’t tried to start up a conversation or two, he just simply left the room whenever I opened my mouth.

“You giving beer away again?” He nods over to Holt.

“That’s probably my brother’s genius plan for Thursdays,” Holt smirks, handing him a tall amber bottle. “I was just telling him we’re pushing the fire code.”

“Dude.” Cole slaps me over the shoulder. His eyes settle on mine, filled with a mixture of desperation and hurt. “Baya’s my sister. You know what that means right?”

I swallow hard because I’m pretty sure it means I lose my balls in some inglorious manner.

He closes his eyes a moment. “It means you’d better take care of her, or I’m coming after you hard. She means everything to me, and if you break her heart, I’m going to have to break your balls.”

“Got it.” A barely-there smile starts on my lips as I resume my normally-scheduled breathing. “I’m not hurting Baya, ever. She’s got my heart. All of it.”

Cole tweaks his brows before doing a double take at the door.

“Five alarm redhead, coming this way.” He slides his drink toward Holt as if disowning it.

I glance back to see Baya and Laney with Roxy Capwell.

Baya comes in and slips her arms around my waist, giving me that sweet smile I’ve waited all day to appreciate. I land my lips over hers and a hard swat lands over my shoulder.